


Shy Moon

by Moonbeam (moonbeamsfanfic)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-14
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeamsfanfic/pseuds/Moonbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Mulder and Scully's winding up in a hospital has its advantages, in the form of a serene vision amongst chaos. Skinner/Mrs. Scully Romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shy Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Zero Sum. Story comes with an accompanying cover pic made by the wonderful Marianne, and a poem by me. Please see the story on [my website](http://www.angelfire.com/falcon/moonbeam/shymoon.html) for full effect. Originally written March 1998.

Shy Moon  
By Moonbeam

 

Glancing at his watch as he drove, he wondered for the millionth time why he always ended up going to visit his wayward agents when they landed themselves in a hospital? He didn't do it for many other agents, but he routinely found himself in the sterile smelling atmosphere of a hospital for them. Maybe it was because of the nature of their work, or just because he actually liked them — he didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to either.

When he'd gotten the phone call by a nurse informing him that Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were in Intensive Care, his first reaction had been to curse their damned propensity for getting hurt. Then he'd unconsciously grabbed his car keys and found himself saying he'd be right there. He hadn't even thought much of it until he found himself actually half-way to the hospital in the middle of night. Now, it just seemed weird. It's the last time, he promised himself. Knowing instinctively that it wasn't, but choosing to ignore that knowledge. He'd deal with it later.

Entering the hospital, he asked the nurse on duty where he could find Mulder and Scully. She had informed him they were on the third floor. He then asked if Agent Scully's mother had been notified about her daughter, and was told the she was already up there. He found himself feeling a deep sympathy for the woman he'd only met briefly a few times. It must be getting hard on Mrs. Scully to be continuously called into various hospitals across the country every time her daughter was hurt. He vaguely wondered how she handled the pressure as he made his way towards their room.

Pushing the door open gently, so as not to disturb the sleeping figure seated in between both beds, he took a look at the condition the X-Files pair had gotten themselves into this time. Mulder looked liked hell, and had a cast on his arm. Scully only looked marginally better. She lacked the cast, but had a splint on one of her fingers, as well as a large bandage over her temple. Skinner nearly smirked sardonically at that, she always got hit on the temple.

A sound from the chair diverted his attention away from his wounded agents, and he suddenly found himself staring into two sparkling clear brown eyes. Beautiful, he thought to himself, and was immediately ashamed of the thought. This woman was one of his agent's mothers, he was not supposed to be looking at her like that. Though, by the knowing smile gracing her lovely face, she had not missed his reaction to her. He blushed slightly, but then quickly regained his composure.

"How are they, Mrs. Scully?" He asked her quietly, the sound loud to his ears in the near silent hospital room.

"They were beaten pretty badly, Fox worst of all. He apparently took a few blows for Dana, according to the doctor." She sighed as she looked sadly upon her daughter's pale face, laced with tubes and bandages. "They don't deserve this constant pain. They've already suffered too much." It came out as only a whisper, more of a thought to herself than to him.

He didn't respond, there didn't seem to be anything he could say, so instead he pulled over another straight-backed chair and sat down to wait on Mulder and Scully's recovery as well.

And found himself thinking about Margaret Scully the entire time.

This is getting disconcerting, he thought to himself. All his life he'd worked on distancing himself as a means of survival. It had kept him alive during Vietnam, and kept him sane throughout the FBI, but it had also ruined his marriage and left him very lonely. He'd come to the conclusion that it was a sacrifice worth making. But now, as he looked across at Mrs. Scully as she crooned holding her daughter's unconscious hand, he found himself wondering if the many years alone were really worth what little he'd gained.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Skinner. It means more to them than even they know. Especially Fox, he's never had anyone other than Dana to care about him." She let out a wistful sigh as she looked at his battered form. "I've tried to offer him my love, but he doesn't seem quite ready to accept it. He has a mother, but I don't think she ever gave him the love a boy of his sensitivity needed." Here she looked up at Skinner and met his eyes dead on, with a scrutinizing intensity that made him want to squirm in his seat, though he resisted the urge. "I think he looks to you as a father figure. He so wants someone to be proud of him, and I feel he's chosen you to be that someone. Even if he doesn't know it himself."

He was stunned. Plain and simple shock, that's what it was. Mulder thinks of him as a father figure? Nah. He tried to deny it, but his own instinct — not to mention Mrs. Scully's "a mother always knows this sort of thing" quiet assurance — wouldn't let him. It made sense in an odd, Mulderish sort of way. Explained a helluva lot actually, he finally conceded.

Throughout his FBI career, Special Agent Fox Mulder had been known as a rebellious pain in the ass who respected no authority. And yet, that same man had given his respect to him — albeit reluctantly at first — and had even come to the point where he'd defended him against obvious odds. Hell, deemed Walter, he'd saved my ass (and my job, if I'll be honest) after that cover-up job I did for that smoking bastard. Guess there had to be some truth to her words, after all.

"Mrs. Scully..."

"Please, call me Maggie." She interrupted kindly.

"Maggie... do you know how it is that Mulder and Scully came to be injured? To my knowledge, they weren't working on a case."

"One of the paramedics who brought them in told me that Dana had been in and out of consciousness during the trip in the ambulance. He said she kept muttering something about a trap. He couldn't get anything else out of her, she was too insensible." Her head shaking in despair, the elder woman once again returned her gaze to the pale, bandaged face of her only remaining daughter.

Skinner excused himself quietly, respectful of her need to keep silent vigil over her children. For, indeed, it appeared that she also considered Mulder her kin. So, taking the his leave, he checked with the doctor about their condition. He was pleased to learn that most of the damage was only superficial and that they would recover fully. In the meantime though, he had a few calls to make. Whatever this "trap" business was about, he was determined to make sure his agents were safe. The AD had learnt from experience that even random acts of violence weren't always what they seemed. Better safe than sorry, that was the old adage the kept popping up with those two. He sighed as he headed down towards a private spot to make his calls.

An hour later, and having garnered no new information concerning what could have possibly happened to his two best agents, Skinner was becoming frustrated. From what his sources could tell him, neither agent had been involved with anything that could warrant such a response by their enemies. Everything pointed to a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he couldn't get what Mrs. Scully (Maggie, he reminded himself unconsciously) had said. "Trap". One word, but it triggered immediate suspicion.

He took a deep breath, he'd been hanging around Mulder too long. His paranoia was starting to rub off on him.

"You look like you need a cup of coffee, Mr. Skinner. Mind if I join you?" With that, she deposited two steaming mugs of overly-strong black coffee on the table and sat herself across from him.

"They're sleeping peacefully now. I'm going to go home and rest before coming back in the morning. Perhaps you should, too?" She suggested in a motherly tone, giving him a thorough study. His tie was loose, his coat draped over the back of the chair, his sleeves rolled up, and he was rubbing incessantly at the bridge of his nose.

He cast an amused glance her way, but didn't argue. Truth was, he could feel the beginnings of a massive headache starting and wished to sleep it off. He hadn't realized it until now, but he'd been up for the better part of the night. He was tired.

"I believe that would be an excellent idea. Would you like a ride home or have you got your own transportation?" He asked, cordially.

She accepted his invention, (she'd taken a taxi there earlier), and after dropping her off at her quaint home, Walter found himself offering to give her a ride back to the hospital the next morning. It may have just been pure courtesy, or his sense of manners, but he chose not to dwell on why. He really was tired, he would deal with the implications tomorrow.

*******

The next day dawned bright and clear, reflecting the moods of those in the hospital room as Mulder and Scully finally came to. Walter and Maggie had gotten there early, and had passed the time talking. He was regaled with stories of her late husband, Bill, and the childhood days of the strong woman he knew now as Agent Scully. He in turn, encouraged by Maggie's open friendliness, found himself telling her of his days as a young man and entering the war. It amazed him how much he realized he was coming to like Margaret Scully. So, he was only slightly surprised when he heard himself ask her out for a cup of coffee.

"Of course, Walter!" She exclaimed, genuinely pleased to be asked. "I'd love to. How about tomorrow at noon? There's this wonderful little coffee shop round the corner from my home. How does that sound?"

Unfortunately, before Skinner could answer, Mulder had the damned bad-timing to wake up.

He groaned audibly as he shifted on the bed, testing his muscles for pain and quickly discovering the cast on his arm. He took a bit more time to notice the visitors in the hospital room, as he was probably slightly disorientated. Though he shouldn't be, mused the AD, he'd been in enough hospitals you'd expect it to be immediately familiar to him.

"What hit me?" He murmured as he struggled to sit up, only to be securely pushed back down by Mrs. Scully.

"We were hoping you could tell us that." Observed the doctor (Phearson , he recalled) from the doorway. "You and you're partner were really messed up. Care to enlighten us on how this happened?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to him inquisitively, and he was just about to answer too, when the previously recumbent form of his partner interrupted.

"We were attacked. Believe it or not," she spoke directly to Skinner, all but ignoring the others in the room. "We were asked to meet a *supposed* friend of mine." By the disdain in her voice as she said this, he gathered that whomever this "friend" was, he wasn't anymore. "But when we got there, we were almost run over instead! Then a couple of big, ugly guys came at us with baseball bats. We defended ourselves as best we could, and they'd left by the time we actually passed out, but needless to say, we were still beaten fairly badly."

"Yeah, and they were just a street gang! A bunch of steroid-using bullies with nothing better to do than pick on us, either that or they were asked to. Seemed to me that they got a bit more pleasure out of the whole thing than they should have. And they only took our guns, not our money or credits cards. It just made no sense. And this former friend of hers never even showed." Added Mulder indignantly.

His two cents in, Mulder's attention was quickly drawn away from everything else but his partner. Maggie looked on with an approving smile as he gently pushed a lock of her bright red hair out of her eyes, ignoring his muscles' protests, while he asked her if she was okay. Her smile had grown as only after about the forth time of Dana's classic response "I'm fine" did Fox finally pull away. She patted his arm consolingly as he pouted, causing him to smile up at her as they shared a secret joke.

Walter had been sitting quietly since his conversation with Maggie had been interrupted, feeling it inappropriate for him to intrude on this moment between the family, which obviously included Mulder. It made him uncomfortable to realize just how alone he was, which Maggie must have picked up on in that way that mothers always do. She came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, both physically and psychologically including him in with a mere gesture.

"So, Skinner, what brings you by on this lovely Saturday morning?" Mulder paused, his face momentarily going blank, "It is Saturday, isn't it?"

No one could resist breaking into light laughter, which only intensified when he put on his characteristic sad-puppy dog face.

The rest of the morning passed quickly, and Dr. Phearson assured the restless Fox Mulder that both he and his partner would be released after one night of observation.

Everything was back to normal, Walter couldn't help thinking by the time he finally went home to get some rest.

*******

"You're such a sweet man, Walter." Maggie smiled prettily at him, taking pleasure in his slight embarrassment which caused him to look away. She was really enjoying her time with this handsome, strong man now seated across from her. Dana had spoken of her boss' good, honest character before, but she had never mentioned that he was an incredibly sexy man as well. Maggie smiled to herself at that, Dana only seemed to notice Fox these days, and she couldn't find anything wrong with that.

Walter Skinner, Assistant Director of the FBI and her daughter's boss, had asked her out for coffee in a hospital while they awaited the recovery of her daughter and daughter's partner. An odd situation in the first place, it had proved to be the perfect occasion to open her heart. Margaret Scully was a smart, careful woman who knew enough not to be foolish in romance, but Walter had already broken down most of her defenses after only a day.

He'd picked her up shortly before noon and they'd walked together to the coffee shop. That had been nearly ten hours ago. They'd spent the entire day together, and it was wonderful! She smiled as she caught Walter staring at her again. He'd been doing it on and off all day, and she'd become adept at detecting when his eyes were on her. She was never one to be concerned over her femininity, but every time he looked at her, she found herself melting at the sight of those beautiful brown eyes. He made her feel special, feminine, and most of all, desirable. It was a magnificent feeling she hadn't known since Bill's death.

She sighed quietly under her breath. That was the problem, only her Captain had ever made her feel this way before. Which left her with a sense of quilt over the way her thoughts and emotions had been affected by Walter Skinner. She had to decide what she wanted before things got too serious.

*******

As he walked her up to her door later that night, Maggie was still fighting with herself over her feelings for him. She'd only known him a short time, and it would be dangerous to rush into a relationship with him. He was, after all, a high-profile figure and her daughter's boss. It probably wouldn't be proper, she finally — reluctantly — conceded. But, as she turned to him, intent on saying goodbye and ending the relationship before it even started... she found herself kissing him. And loving it.

It was hard to say who was more surprised, but both recovered from the shock quickly and the kiss soon deepened. In moments, both were breathing erratically and Maggie was fumbling to get her keys into the lock and open the door. They were still on her doorstep, after all.

Once inside, Walter broke the kiss to look into her eyes. Trying, Maggie assumed, to divine what she felt. He obviously found more than she knew herself, because before she could even say a word he was kissing her again. The last kiss lasted much longer than the first; less passionate, but no less intense.

Only when the need for air became painful did they pull apart again. "Maggie, it's been a long time since I've felt this way about anyone. Not since Sharon, so I don't want to rush things. We've spent one day together, and it's been glorious, but I want you to be sure before this gets out of hand." The raw emotion and frank honesty she saw shining through his eyes were so powerful, she felt her heart crumble at the sight.

"Oh, Walter." And she was kissing him again. It seemed to have become a natural instinct, after only such a short time. It had to stop, she told herself. It was too quick, too rash. She was acting under hormonal control like some immature teenager, instead the mature woman she was. But, dear Lord, did she ever want Walter right then!

As his arms came up to press her body flush against his, she felt the evidence to what she'd already known. He was just as affected by their kisses as she was, just as aroused. This is a dangerous combination, Maggie concluded, deciding it really would be best to just pull away and cool off. Only problem was, she didn't want to! It felt so good to held by him, so right to feel his lips pressed against hers. She wanted more contact, needed more contact. She needed to feel his skin, his skin against hers. The desire was almost overwhelming, and she welcomed it.

*******

Walter had been startled when she'd turned and kissed him on her doorstep. He'd just been thinking that exact same thing, but had decided it wasn't the right time or place to kiss her. Obviously, she'd had other thoughts. He'd known right from the start that Maggie was a very passionate woman, it showed through in everything she did and said. It was also part of what had attracted him to her in the first place, that strength and beauty magnified by such a fierce heart and spirit. Together, it was enough to drive any man to distraction.

And distraction was most assuredly where he was headed right now, he confessed to himself. He'd watched her eyes glow brightly as he'd told her his intentions, only to have his renewed resolve against following his hormone's request once again blown to dust by her lips moving across his own. Not that kissing such a delicate treat, as that's what it felt like, alone wasn't enough, she'd also decided that they were wearing to much clothing for her liking. She'd already stripped him of his own shirt before he could even utter a single protest, and now that her hands were roaming so freely across his bare chest, he was finding it harder and harder to come up with a reason why they should stop this.

"Maggie, we... shouldn't... should slow down... think things through..." It was really hard to concentrate, let alone talk, with her... Oh, God! With her doing that!

*******

Margaret smiled seductively as she managed to preoccupy Walter through inventive use of her tongue before he could say anything that might ruin the moment. She knew she shouldn't, but the idea that he was trying to slow things down out of respect for her — despite his unmistakable hunger — it was an incredible turn on. Hmm, Margaret Scully, she said to herself, what would Father McCue say if you told him this!

For some reason, even her strong Catholic background couldn't come up with any worthy objections to what she was about to do. It may be rash, but it felt so right that she could see no reason to stop. So she wouldn't, she agreed contentedly. She let her body pass the message on to Walter.

*******

Okay, woman, you win! He'd finally given up trying to be gentlemanly, Maggie evidently didn't want it. So, he decided, might as well make the best of it. Which, to be honest, wasn't gonna be hard to do. In truth, he didn't think he'd be able to stop kissing her and touching her if he'd had to. She was just so beautifully sexy!

He watched, his eyes darkening in desire, as she tore off her own sweater. Leaving them both standing there topless, and he wasted no time before sweeping her back into his arms and kissing her again. He couldn't seem to get enough of her near him, so much so that it amazed him that they'd actually managed to separate long enough to get the rest of their clothes off. What awed him even more, was that sometime during the passionate kisses and frenzied caresses, they'd found their way to her bedroom. God must be working in our favor, deemed Walter with what was left of his rapidly shrinking mental capacity.

Pushing her down onto the bed, he moved so his body partly covered hers. She was such a tiny figure, laying there blissfully on the covers, that he was careful not too put too much weight on her. Her arms came up around him, giving her the leverage she needed to reattach their mouths. Walter couldn't help the groan that worked it's way out of his throat at her touch, it was like magic.

His own hands had already busied themselves in a thorough exploration of her silky body. Every whimper she made as his hands, and soon mouth, passed over her curves was almost enough to undo him. A low growl of pleasure forced itself from his chest as she pushed him over, using her momentum to straddle his hips. It was her turn to go exploring.

*******

What he was doing to her... Oh! Heavenly! Any doubts which may have remained hidden somewhere in her subconscious were gone by now, she knew. Walter was such a sweet, gentle man; yet every touch caused her skin to flair into flames of pleasure. He was driving her wild, and she loved it. Each sound that emanated from the depths of his throat, each rumble in his chest,. She could feel the sounds rake across her sensitized nerves, sending waves of yearning into every corner of her person. It was exquisite torture.

But it was her turn to play, she smiled mischievously at him, using her own body's weight to flip their positions on the bed. Now with him below her, she was able to truly appreciate with a handsome figure he was. His chest was solid and smooth, his arms just as strong. Everything about him screamed of strength, but his gentleness showed that it was his heart which was strongest of all. She leaned down to placed a lingering kiss on his muscular pecs, right above his heart. Smiling contentedly as she felt its beat quicken even more.

They were both filled with desire, theirs bodies already strumming for unity. Maggie's smile grew as she lifted herself up, Walter's hands supporting her at her hips. They each cried out at the feel of them coming together as she slid down. The sensation was intensely powerful in itself, that neither moved for awhile. Allowing their bodies the time they needed to adjust to the new sensory awareness, giving their bodies chance to catch up to where their hearts and souls were already joined comfortably.

No longer two separate beings, Walter and Maggie began to move simultaneously. Each thrust; perfectly choreographed by the joint beating of their hearts. Every stroke; heightened in magnitude by shared looks that passed between them. Each cry of pleasure; echoed twice as deep by the other. And when they came, each wave of pleasure fell in flawless synchronization with the other. The world exploded and was reformed with them as one being; mind, body, and soul.

As they lay together, basking in the afterglow, Maggie had one errant thought enter her mind.

"Walter," his eyes opened to meet her sleepy and peaceful gaze, "let's not tell Dana or Fox."

They smiled at each other, and soon the room echoed with their light-hearted laughter.

All was right with the world.

*******

"Come on, Mulder." Scully sighed dramatically, feigning impatience as her partner reluctantly made his way up her mother's front steps to meet her. Her mother had taken something of Dana's home from the hospital for her, and she had come to pick it up. Though, she thought, it may have been better to have left Mulder back at his apartment. He hadn't been happy with having to go out on this morning, something about a basketball game or something.

She heard him mutter some, probably rude, reply as she slipped her keys into the lock of her mother's door. It was still fairly early, so she was hoping her mother would be asleep. That way she could just pop in, grab what she needed, and get out with Mr. Grumpy here without causing a fuss. Her mother had a tendency to throw a banquet when company came over, and with Mulder's appetite... Well, she just didn't want to end up there all day. Having sick leave where she was actually healthy enough to enjoy the time off was rare, she didn't want to waste it.

Taking a peak inside, and seeing all the lights still off and no sounds to indicate her mother being awake, she and Mulder quietly stepped inside. His muttered protests falling silent at a glare from his red-haired companion. Scully quickly scanned the living room for what she'd come for, and not seeing it, gingerly made her way to the kitchen. She probably left it on the table where she puts everything else, she said to herself.

But upon turning the corner, her world collapsed beneath her. A squeal of surprise shot out of her, attracting Mulder's attention as he hurried in after her. "Scully?" He asked, but soon realized what had drawn such a reaction from his partner as his eyes took in the other occupants in the room. "Oh my God." Was all he could think of to say.

Leaning against the far counter, their arms wrapped snugly around each other, stood a just as stunned half-dressed Margaret Scully and Walter Skinner.

It was gonna be a long day.

~*~*~*~

The End.


End file.
